Jedi Chronicles
by bob.donny
Summary: Generations after ANH the jedi have descended to clans at odds with each other. All the jedi clans have different prespectives to the force and some clans are even at war.This is the first chapter introducing us to the new world and the central character.


**Chapter 1**

**This is Trei**

An orange glow of darkness surrounded them. The eternal night warmed to the blaze of fire and ruin.

And they ran. Running as hard as they could, from something, to something, it didn't matter, just running.

"Get Down" barked Trei's father.

His rough hands caught the scruff of Trei's neck forcing him to an unyielding union of earth and face.

"Don't move" his father ordered "Don't think. Don't make a sound"

Trei lay, in fear, considering this strange combination of damp mud and dry ash that forced its way thru his senses.

He lay on the lives and homes of many and none, years of conflict and moments of peace, and he was lost, he was found.

Almost.

Nothing bad could happen to Trei with his father by his side, or could it?

He had never seen his guardians act like this before. Sure, a 7 year old kid, like Trei, was allowed fear, almost expected to embrace it, to keep him on his toes, but the fear his father felt was different.

Much Different.

Trei could feel it. In what brief understanding of the force he could feel things, maybe not understand them but he could feel them, and his father felt wrong.

Blinding lights and thunderous ROAR, his fathers apprehension parried by the increased pressure forcing Trei to the floor, as the aircraft flew barely meters overhead. Trei felt pulled into the air, practically sucked into the aftermath of the passing craft. For that moment Trei felt the end, and felt relieved.

Almost.

"Too close" his father now said, whispering, "They know we are here! Up, Up. We got to go"

Trei was hauled to his feet and pushed to a trot.

Over brick, thru muddy streams, into open doors, passing bodies and shrapnel everywhere, this place was hell. This place was home.

Almost.

After a solid twenty minutes of pace they jerked to a stop. "No!" Trei's father exclaimed, sudden realisation on his face. "How could I have been so stupid!" and added in a whisper "no"

"What is it? What's wrong?" Trei cried in panic.

His father was statuesque as he looked around.

"Father, what is it!"

"Stop, listen, can you feel it?"

Trei stopped and listened, like any good boy obeying his fathers command, but frustration washed over him.

He didn't feel it.

He closed his eyes and tried harder, almost imagining blood pouring from his head with the pressure, self imposed but still pressure, no less.

And he couldn't feel it

"No, no I can't. Dad what's going on? I'm scared"

Oblivious to his son, apparently, his sweeping gaze caught nothing but held a sad look of resignation.

"That's the point Trei, there is nothing!"

Still his head scanned.

"Where are the birds? The animals? The scavengers? There is nothing! That's why you feel nothing. I've taken us into a trap"

His gaze stopped on a burning building, with a crashed aircraft half hanging out of the third floor.

"Come on, we can make it"

And so they ran, running from something, running to something it didn't matter, not to Trei, just running.

He was with his father and they would be all right.

They got to the scorched remains of the building. Many of the walls were gone, but there was enough left to invoke a vision to Trei.

"We can't go in there!" Trei pleaded

"We've no time Trei, they are almost here, inside" Trei's father replied knowing quite well the vision his son had had.

Father and Son jumped over the broken and smoldering door into what equally could have be a shop, or a bar, or some families lounge!

All that was obvious was pain and destruction had paid a short and sweet visit here. There was a smell of sulfur and death, but we were all used to that by now.

Almost.

Trei's father threw back a table and kicked a body from its leg. A dead, charred body, leaving scratch marks from where it clawed for dear life lost.

Trei's father glanced to the table then outside the window.

"Stay here behind this, don't move"

Trei's father began to turn and Trei looked to him. Then time stood still, for the first time today.

This man, this aged and scarred old man, old at the age of thirty.

Years of experience brought to him from years of failure.

Failure for not realising that his whole life led him to this moment and it would change the world from here on.

For everyone.

And as he turned into the hazy smoke making his features blurred and sharp at the same time, the orange, red glow of distress pouring in thru the door and broken windows, hugging him with its nothingness, he looked like a god, he looked like a man.

He was neither.

He was my father.

He looked at peace, in the last twenty minutes something had changed in his eyes; something had changed in how he felt, about himself and how he felt to me.

Yes.

He FELT content, he was at peace, he was no longer afraid, but I still was.

He knew what was going to happen and therefore WE knew what was going to happen.

"Dad, you are coming back, aren't you?"

He turned back, smiled and answered "Of course I will"

Our locked eyes told me of what he really felt, what he really said, what was most important.

His eyes told me "I love you", and mine reciprocated.

With that he gave me a wink, a lopsided smile and turned and ran, to something, from something, it didn't matter, he just ran, and I stayed with the stark reality that we will never see each other again.

I lay huddled by the heavy table surrounded by decay and pain. I waited, listening to the flickering of the flames, the thumping of my heart and held my breath. I knew that to breath would make too much noise.

I was trying to catch a glimmer of hope, that was, the crunching footsteps of my fathers return.

But I couldn't. I couldn't accept this was the end.

I couldn't.

I tried to get up but didn't. Knowing every second of delay brought us closer to the end, I couldn't move.

I couldn't.

I had to. I willed myself to my feet.

I didn't move.

I embraced my fear, I used it.

It drove me.

I willed myself to my knees, and barely moved, but I moved. Slowly, painfully slowly I got up and crawled to the door, tears pouring down my face, for so many different reasons.

But I crawled.

I got to the broken window, my hands bloody from the shards of the previously smashed glass.

But I got there.

I dragged myself to my feet, trudging thru my own barriers to get up and out the door to run to my father, to help him, to tell him its all right, to take him home.

Then I froze.

Almost.

I felt it and turned my head, slightly, to look out the broken window.

I saw him; my heart sank and swam at the same time.

I knew it didn't have to be. I didn't know what it was GOING to be, but just knew it didn't HAVE to be.

But why was he just standing there.

What was he doing?

"Come back" I yelled within my head, within my heart…why didn't I shout?

He just stood there, waiting.

Looking away from me.

What was he looking at?

I followed his gaze and saw nothing, but felt a darkness fall.

Not a darkness that can be described as the absence of light but rather a darkness that can be described as a warm but wrong cloak, embracing your very soul.

I looked harder, no; my eyes were attracted, dragged to the end on the street my father was on.

To the shadow.

Then the shadow moved.

Shadows not shadow.

They moved to my father.

He just stood there, waiting.

Looking away from me.

Looking at them.

The shadows became 5 people, walking to my father.

Smiling with evil distaste, knowing that they were going to enjoy the process and outcome of what was to come. Savoring each slow step, treading over embers, skirting ruble, and still coming. Their smiles increasing with every inch that brought them closer to their quarry.

Oh yes, they were going to enjoy this.

Enjoy what?

My father stood with a stoic grace. His face emotionless. His body relaxed and taut.

Ready.

His hands hung by his side.

He didn't turn or move, or acknowledge that he knew I was there, but sent me a small brief emotion.

"Run"

So quiet it came to my head that I almost didn't recognise it.

Almost.

The dark man in the middle, the leader, glanced in my direction, but only glanced, nothing more.

I knew I should run but I couldn't.

I couldn't.

The 5 men were, featureless, indistinguishable, save for the man in the middle, he, he was just different, he was just more. He was darker.

They all wore dark cloaks, were well built, no; not well built, but strong, in both physical terms and by their mere presence.

Their eyes, dark, no; evil, evil eyes, mischievous eyes, that had looked on pain and suffering with pleasure.

Bad eyes.

Those eyes were all fixed on my father, willing him to run, to drag out the experience, to chase, no; to hunt, yes to hunt him. They wanted to see his fear, to feel it.

My father remained motionless, looking at each in turn, emotionless.

The men's smiles turned grim, my father's indifference infuriated them.

He was winning.

My father was going to win!

Win what I asked myself, immediately realising I didn't want to know the answer.

Transfixed, I was.

Helpless.

I watched.

Two of the men stopped. Two more circled my father, almost dancing and jeering as they passed him. My father gave them no more than a cursory glance. He didn't have to know where they stood, he could feel them, and in return I could feel them.

I was scared, my father was prepared.

But now he was encaged, in a virtual box. The dark man entered my father's cage. His smile gone.

They spoke briefly, I was confused. I could not hear, I strained to listen but all I gathered was the gentle rumblings of 2 men that could have been arguing or laughing….for their faces gave nothing away, expressionless.

Then the dark man smiled and my world exploded into frenzy.

All five men ignited their lightsabers against my father.

Over the din of a dying city I heard the series of snap-hiss and deep thrumming of the glowing blades of blue, green and amber and the hissing sound of rain sizzling of the blades.

They communally charged at my father.

He just stood there, waiting.

Looking away from me.

Looking at them.

I felt like I was dreaming, this cant be real. I wanted to look around my hovel and find anything, a brick, or a shovel, anything, to help my father, but I couldn't drag myself from watching, thru my tears.

I couldn't stand it.

But I did.

They were within arms length of my father, he could conceivable feel their breath on him, feel their bloodlust.

And yet

He just stood there, waiting.

Looking away from me.

Looking with eyes closed, looking inward.

The aggressors raised their lightsabers and cried out as they struck him. But he wasn't there! Hope surged within me. As the men fell back surprised, trying to yield their blows from falling on their comrades I glimpsed my father soaring over their heads, in a somersault toward the dark man. The leader.

With his body inverted and his feet above his head halfway thru the air I saw the familiar silver piece of metal in his hand. I saw it ignite into its white light and cleave thru the nearest enemy, decapitating him instantly. My father completed his maneuver and landed on a small meter high piece of rubble before the slain victim's head hit the ground.

Still my fathers face was expressionless in total concentration. I felt his conviction soar within me, I understood his thoughts.

He didn't have any thoughts.

He was beyond that, he was at one with himself, and thinking was a distraction. He was as much a weapon as the item in his hand.

Shaken by their falling cohort the men each took a more defensive form and edged slowly toward my father. Step by painstaking step they came and he just stood there, looking at all, looking at none, just looking and aware of everything.

One of the men struck out high while another struck low and a third gathered the force within him and leaped over my father, to land behind him, but he never made it.

My father crouched from the first strike, and dove over the second strike. Whilst in twisting in mid air, with a lightsaber sweeping below and above him, he flung his lightsaber into the air.

To the horror of the third man.

The third man lost focus on his flight and tried to parry the incoming blade.

My father, half way through his own roll, extended himself with the force and caught his lightsaber with his mind and halted its progress to its target.

Out maneuvered for the final time the third mans parry continued dragging him into a side roll by the sheer momentum of his defensive strike. His back exposed, to my father, who had now landed crouched, released his mental grasp on his saber and sent it soaring to the third man with blinding speed; slicing him in half.

Throughout all this the dark man, the leader, still stood with his amber saber ignited by his side and a sly smile dressed on his face; to complement his sheer arrogance.

My father began to rise and called back his light saber to his hand, with his free hand he focused a force wave that knocked the two, who stuck out at him, to the ground in a violent plunge.

Lightsaber in hand he stood and dropped his guard then turned and faced the leader, the dark man, of the group and said something with a blank expression, the leaders, face turned poisonous and he swore some sort of exclamation and rushed at my father with amber blade swinging.

My father rose to block the first strike to the shin, then parry the next to his right, but it was a feint.

It never came.

Instead the dark man withdrew his attack and drove a thrust to the chest. My father sidestepped, but the amber blade caught his left arm as he dodged the blade, and that's when I felt his conviction falter.

I felt for the first time in this battle my fathers fear rise, but it was quickly dispelled, nonetheless, apparent or not, the fear remained. The dark man struck out again and again, with saber, leg and elbow, blow after blow landed and was absorbed and deflected by my father, but he was on the defensive now, becoming overwhelmed.

And being pushed back.

The other two aggressors we up now and coming at my fathers back. One blue blade came from behind and my father barely blocked it. In a sheer blinding display of speed and agility he spun to the right as another green blade sought him from the left.

He kicked out and knocked the man with the green blade to the nearest wall where he collapsed with a resounding crunch. Having exposed his body with the open kick he just found the time to parry a sidelong glancing blow from behind him on the right.

But that was all the dark man needed.

The dark man with the amber blade lowered his saber; my father raised his saber and charged.

The dark man, unbelievably, raised his hand and used the force to propel my father backwards, not a lot, just a bit, just enough.

With my fathers saber raised to strike he fell back, concentrating on keeping his balance he failed to identify the remaining fighter who was also preparing an overhead strike against my fathers back.

My father landed directly below the swing. The blue saber carved my fathers hand in 2 and with it his saber. The white blade extinguished, he dropped to his knees, clutching what was left of his hand.

"No!" the leader shouted to his only remaining man. And the other man lowered his head, as well as his saber, and his humming blue blade vanished. All that remained was the amber blade and the disgusting smile on the dark mans face.

I watched in astonishment, not believing what had just happened in the few minutes that had passed since my father left me. The dark man said something and laughed again as he raised his blade and dragged it down across my fathers body cleaving him from shoulder to waist.

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo"

Suddenly the smiles were gone from the men's faces and both were staring at me, thru the broken window, into my hovel and into my soul.

I stepped back realising I had just doomed myself.

I could have cared less.

I looked down at my hands; beseeching them to be holding something I could fight with, when they came.

Which they would.

Which they did.

I looked back up and stared in horror.

Speechless with terror.

They were already at the broken window; the owner of the blue blade was looking in, smiling, again, no more than a silhouette against the burning sky behind him. And at the door was the dark man; amber blade still in his hand, ignited.

Time slowed down, for the second time, he kicked what was left of the door out of his path and marched towards me; life drained from his eyes, darkness eating away at his features, venom in heart.

I stumbled back and fell over the dead body that was hanging on to the table. My head hit the ground, pain spiked thru me. I raised myself to my elbows, back to the ground I shuffled back wards as best I could, but the man with the amber blade kept coming, I shuffled quicker till I hit a wall behind me, it was all the dark man could do to keep from laughing.

He turned and joked to his companion, "We got us a fighter here" then looked back at me, the shaking boy on the floor, trapped into a corner, gaze held by the man who killed his father. I was pitiable. I'll never forget the sound of his voice. He raised his amber blade above his head and screamed "Arrragh" as the blade dropped to end me. I closed my eyes and waited.

I tasted salt on my lips.

The strike never came, I opened my eyes to see the lightsaber stopped, millimeters from my eyes, so close it singed my hair and burned my nose.

"Remember this moment boy" he said, all humour gone from him, seriousness paramount in his proclamation.

"Remember it well, Use you feelings, use your fear, let it grow naturally. Support and feed it!

"Someday, you will come looking for me. And I will be waiting. And you will get what you want.

"Do you understand?"

The passion in his eyes were entrancing, I couldn't look away.

I couldn't.

I couldn't answer.

The seriousness now gone from his features he relaxed, and his blade disappeared, he clipped his lightsaber to his belt and turned, and called to his friend.

"Lets tidy up this mess and get the hell out of here, this fracas may have just put me off my breakfast"

His associate laughed; I lost control.

I jumped to my feet and ran at the dark man…I don't know what I was saying, it didn't matter but I was punching, hitting and kicking the dark man.

"Good, you'll learn in time" he said

His arm pulled back and released the most powerful blow that flung me across the room, where I slammed against the wall and slumped to the floor. My head on the ground, I saw the whole room sideways as he walked out, then the view turned blood red and then black.

Then Nothing.

Trei awoke in his cot with a start. It was still darkness and he was soaked with sweat. He swung his legs over the side. Klaxons were blaring and he suddenly came back to reality. Freaez came to his door, as always in good humour.

"Hey Hero you ready to save the world?"

"Yeah, I guess"

She noticed his weary look and asked in a softer voice "Same dream?"

Trei felt slightly embarrassed and answered "Yeah, you'd think after 15 years I'd be over it huh!"

Freaez realised that his attempt at humour was a dismissal of further conversation on the topic. "Things will make sense soon, I promise, we'll talk bout it later k?"

"Sure, thanks Freaez"

"No prob, hero!"

With that she gave him a wink and ran off.

The dreams were getting worse. But that wasn't it.

Trei knew, he had known for the last few days.

He just knew.

Tonight.

All would be decided tonight. The same way his father knew the night he died that the events of that fateful evening would carve out the future of the universe, Trei knew what was going to happen tonight would decide the fate of millions, billions possibly even trillions.

It was that simple.

He stood up, went to the fresher and splashed water on his face. "Whossshhhhh" he squirmed with the cold.

He looked in the mirror, saw past his eyes, and rubbed his grimy hand through his greasy hair.

"War isn't glamorous, huh" he echoed to himself.

He walked over to his foot locker and put on his utility belt.

He clicked his lightsaber onto the left of the belt, then his blaster to his right and put on his jacket.

Stepping out, on his way to the briefing room he wondered, dismally, if he would ever be back to his room, this base or this planet.

He looked to the floor, shaking his head and walked off reflecting "What a stupid thing to think of."

More important a train of thought is "Will I be alive by sunrise?"


End file.
